


Crimson

by KittieHill



Series: Prompts [22]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, Blood included in sex acts, Blood licking, If you don't like blood, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Rimming, Safewords, Seriously guys, dont read, i dont even know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 23:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5435027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittieHill/pseuds/KittieHill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock blushed and moved his cut hand around his prick, watching as the free-running blood left sticky streaks of red against his skin before dribbling down to his pubic hair. Sherlock didn’t pleasure himself very often, in fact he could probably count on one hand the amount of times he had partaken in the activity but the rush of chemicals to his brain at the first stroke was enough to have him feeling lightheaded in a way he hoped was unrelated to his injury.</p><p>“That’s it… get it nice and wet,” John growled, his voice gravelly and lustful. “Need it, Sherlock, need you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crimson

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sherlockholmesconsultingvampire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockholmesconsultingvampire/gifts).



> I was asked to write something bloody yet sexy. This isn't my usual thing but I can't turn down prompts which make people happy so here it is!
> 
> Beta'd by SherlockHolmesConsultingVampire who I love dearly.
> 
> Send me prompts and I'll see if I can get some done over the Xmas holidays!
> 
> Comment please!

_John pulled Sherlock through the door to the flat and up the stairs; the adrenalin was still pumping from the fight at the docks and John could feel the tension radiating between the two men as Sherlock allowed himself to be dragged like a puppet, trailing blood behind him and up the carpet. The detective stumbled, falling forward only to be caught in mid-air by John who gave a giddy smile and continued their journey, locking the door of their flat behind them._

It’s going to happen again, Sherlock thought with an excited shiver as he watched John stalk into the kitchen to rummage through various drawers which had been taken over by medical supplies. John seemingly found whatever he was looking for and returned to Sherlock’s side, pushing him down into his chair and taking position between Sherlock’s spread legs.

“You’re a cock,” John growled, his eyes intense and burning in that oh so familiar way which made Sherlock’s stomach flutter.

 "I hardly think that’s fair,” Sherlock stammered, rolling his eyes as they continued their little dance with one another.

“It’s very fair. You throw yourself into these ridiculous situations and get yourself hurt and then expect me to jump into danger and rescue you,” John tutted, moving his hand to Sherlock’s injured skin and pulling away the makeshift bandage with a wince when a fresh trickle of blood streamed down pale skin.

“What – What would you prefer? We stay at home and bake fairy cakes?” Sherlock scoffed, lifting his arm to look at the cut on his palm. It was deep, but not deep enough to require stitches.

Sherlock watched as John’s eyes changed from their regular blue to an almost black; the air between them crackled with energy as John made eye contact, it lingered for a long moment before John extended his tongue and licked along the crimson path down Sherlock’s wrist.

Both men growled in satisfaction at the sensation; Sherlock had craved the touch of his flatmate since the last time this had happened a month ago and John had missed the taste of Sherlock’s tangy, copper blood filling his senses. Sherlock’s eyes fluttered closed as he moved a hand to cup his burgeoning erection, and John’s hand moved quickly, flicking it out of the way and placing his own spare hand over Sherlock’s cock. “You don’t get to touch. Not until I say.”

“John,” Sherlock whispered, his voice broken and sultry. “Please.”

“Now the boy has manners,” John laughed, his slightly blood stained lips beginning a path from wrist to palm where the wound was bleeding worst. He wrapped his lips around the cut and lapped at it, lathering his tongue across the sliced skin and growling when Sherlock stiffened and whimpered.

“Remember the word?” John asked, his eyes suddenly soft and tender as he stared up at his best friend.

Sherlock nodded his head, biting his lower lip before whispering, “Crimson.”

“Correct,” John smiled, his blood smeared lips pulling up as his red tongue licked at them.

Sherlock watched enraptured, realising too late that John was moving in for a fiery kiss full of passion and promise. The detective whimpered, grabbing John’s jumper with his free hand as he opened his mouth to allow John’s iron flavoured tongue into his mouth. The first time they had done this, Sherlock had cringed at the taste of himself and instinctively pulled away, making excuses as to why he couldn’t kiss John. Their friendship, their business, the flat; they all made convincing arguments until John explained that nothing would change between them.

Sherlock came back to himself and watched as John flicked open the tailored trousers which pushed against Sherlock’s erection, and the young man hissed as his cock was freed into the cool air of Baker Street.

“Touch yourself,” John groaned, his hand moving now to cup and stroke his own cock still inside his jeans.

Sherlock tentatively reached for his cock, wrapping his uninjured hand around it only to have John clear his throat. “Properly.”

Sherlock blushed and moved his cut hand around his prick, watching as the free-running blood left sticky streaks of red against his skin before dribbling down to his pubic hair. Sherlock didn’t pleasure himself very often, in fact, he could probably count on one hand the number of times he had partaken in the activity but the rush of chemicals to his brain at the first stroke was enough to have him feeling lightheaded in a way he hoped was unrelated to his injury.

“That’s it… get it nice and wet,” John growled, his voice gravelly and lustful. “Need it, Sherlock, need you.”

Sherlock blushed, wincing slightly at the pain from his hand as he began stroking himself and spreading the blood and precome together up and down his shaft. John watched with hooded eyes as Sherlock cautiously wanked himself until he couldn’t handle the exquisite torture any longer and wrapped his own hand around Sherlock’s. “Let go. It’s my turn.”

John peeled away Sherlock’s hand and looked down at the mess beneath; Sherlock’s cock was smeared in blood and precome, shiny in the lights above them as John took a deep inhale of the coppery smell before lowering his head and taking Sherlock’s shaft into his mouth. Sherlock gave a high pitched and unmasculine whimper as he was engulfed in hot, wet heat and felt John’s clever tongue exploring the swollen flesh. Sherlock curled his uninjured hand into the arm of the chair whilst leaving the still bleeding hand on his stomach, watching as tiny rivulets of blood trickled down towards his bellybutton. The noises escaping John were enough to cause Sherlock’s cock to twitch and throb inside John’s mouth, breathy moans and filthy slurps echoing around the empty flat as John cleaned and lapped at Sherlock’s skin.

“John… John, I’m… Oh god… John I’m going to…” Sherlock managed, his head thrown back against the backrest of the chair.

The older man stopped, pulling away and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he let go of Sherlock’s cock in order to let his friend cool down. Sherlock was prone to premature ejaculation due to the years of self-induced celibacy and John knew that once Sherlock had orgasmed, he would normally crash out and sleep for over twelve hours.

“Don’t stop John,” Sherlock complained, a slight pout marring his features as he frowned and looked down at John. “I was close.”

“Precisely,” John smiled and stood up to his full height. “Kick your trousers off and kneel on the chair, hands on the back.”

Sherlock blinked at the instructions, unsure how to process this request but he stood regardless, stripping from his bottoms with a silly wiggle. He turned so that his back was to John but stared over his shoulder with an embarrassed flush as he realised exactly what John wanted.  “John… I er…”

John’s expression softened again as he walked to Sherlock’s head and stroked a hand through sweat frizzed curls. “It’s okay. You can stop anytime you need to.”

Sherlock gave a half nod and put his uninjured hand on the back of the sofa before looking up at John for further instructions. “Spread your legs,” John groaned, his cheeks flushed pink and his breathing rushing from him in a pant as he looked over at the delicious feast in front of him. “I want you open.”

The detective gave a squeak and closed his eyes but shimmied his knees wider and let his chest rest on the back of the chair for support as his cock twitched and dripped onto the cushions. “What… What should I do?”

“Touch yourself,” John growled, taking Sherlock’s bleeding hand and letting it fall from the chair so that the blood dripped onto his fingertips. John twisted Sherlock’s hand backwards carefully and spread the detective’s cheeks wide open before coaxing Sherlock to touch his blood-soaked fingers to the puckered ring which was so completely untouched. Sherlock groaned deep and filthily, his heart beating hard in his chest as he circled his opening, feeling the slick blood coating his skin.

“Careful with the cut,” John whispered, his doctor's instincts kicking in momentarily before the lover trampled him back down, “move your hand, let me see.”

Sherlock did as he was told, moving his hand to show John the results of his stroking. His skin was lined with smears of blood including the dusky pink hole which twitched under scrutiny; Sherlock’s cock was beginning to ache as it throbbed, seemingly forgotten underneath him.

“I haven’t forgotten,” John laughed, making Sherlock realise he had been talking out loud. “But I have something I need to do first.”

“W-What's that?” Sherlock asked, attempting to sound haughty and unconcerned but his voice broke when John traced a finger down his crack.

“This.” John smiled as he buried his face in Sherlock’s arse. Sherlock could only hold on to the chair and cry out in bliss as the first touch of John’s hot, wet, eager tongue lapped at his entrance. John growled, grasping each of Sherlock’s surprisingly plump buttocks in his hands as he pulled them apart and devoured Sherlock’s arsehole. The doctor sucked and licked at the sensitive skin, tasting the lingering musk from his friend’s skin combined with the heady taste of blood. Sherlock whimpered, pushing back in a desperate attempt to have more of John's tongue inside him whilst also attempting to thrust away from the strange intruder.

“Fuck Sherlock, you taste amazing,” John growled, burying his head back into the cleft but this time removing a hand to stroke Sherlock’s cock which trickled a steady stream of precome. John spread the wetness around with his thumb as he lapped at Sherlock’s hole, listening to the sounds of Sherlock beginning to reach orgasm once more with breathy pants and aborted little cries.

“That’s it,” John soothed, his voice muffled by Sherlock’s cheeks. “That’s it. Good boy.”

“John!” Sherlock practically screamed, his hands turning into talons as he gripped the fabric of the chair and shuddered through his climax, soaking John’s hand with ropes of hot come. John continued to stroke him through his orgasm, draining the essence from him before pulling away and rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth and standing up to unzip his own trousers and pull out his cock. Sherlock looked behind him lazily; his brain had clicked offline and he was managing with only a tiny amount of brainpower as he watched John move directly behind him.

For a brief second, Sherlock thought that John would penetrate him without proper lubricant but rapidly dismissed the idea knowing that John was a doctor and an experienced man, and he wouldn’t hurt anybody intentionally in that way and certainly not a virgin like Sherlock.

Instead, John pushed Sherlock’s thighs together and trapped his cock between the fleshy limbs. Sherlock raised an eyebrow but clamped his legs tightly and smiled when John growled his pleasure and began rutting rapidly and without finesse against Sherlock’s skin.

“Your hand. Give me your hand,” John groaned, sweat peppering his forehead and top lip as he thrust, his jumper brushing against Sherlock’s arse with every movement.

Sherlock reached his hand behind him, it was awkward and uncomfortable but Sherlock didn’t care as John took in it his hand and bent forward, pressing his friend's blood stained fingers into his mouth and suckling them as he thrust with a deep groan. Sherlock groaned in tandem; he was no longer hard and unable to achieve a second erection even if he tried but the sensation of John sucking his fingers was enough to cause his cock to give a tiny twitch.

“Sh-Sherlock,” John moaned, his hips pistoning back and forth. “Sherlock, oh god!”

John pulled away, grabbing his cock he stroked it rapidly and placing it at Sherlock’s hole before coming with a choked off gasp. Sherlock stiffened his spine and frowned at the sensation of hot, wet ejaculate covering his entrance before dripping down his cleft to land on the chair cushion. John wavered, his knees threatening to buckle as he coaxed the remaining drips from his prick and let Sherlock’s fingers fall from his mouth.

“You ok?” John asked softly, stroking a hand through Sherlock’s curls.

“Perfectly,” Sherlock smiled, flexing his hand and looking at the wound which had caused the entire situation.

“I’ll wrap that up for you… I better clean it properly first though,” John blushed, seemingly back to the usual jumper wearing vanilla doctor.

“Hmmm,” Sherlock yawned. “Oh, and bring a towel. I don’t want to sleep with your semen covering my anus.”

John choked and blushed, rushing off to the bathroom to wet a towel and hoping that Mrs Hudson wasn’t around to hear Sherlock’s comments.

  



End file.
